|
FOOD — Dining in the dark |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Written by asap
|
|
Saturday, 10 March 2007 |
|
|
|
|
There is dusk, there is evening, there is night. Take that to the 10th degree and you have black hole pitch dark nothingness, where you can’t see your finger even if it’s touching your nose.
Put both hands on the shoulders of the person in front of you, walk behind your server through the black curtains and voila, you have reached one of the most famous restaurants in Zurich.
At blindekuh (blind cow), nobody comes just for the food. The restaurant has been whipping up tasty meals served in complete darkness by blind workers since 1999, both to create more jobs for the blind and to teach the rest of the world about the challenges they face.
Let’s just say they do a good job. The waiting list for dinner reservations is at least one month, and sometimes two.
How much do you use your eyes to eat? We were about to find out.
———
THE BLIND COW DRILL
In a dimly lit lobby, guests strip before dinner. Clothes stay on, but all watches, cell phones, Blackberrys, video games — anything that can emit light — are put in a locker until the end of the meal.
The menu, which changes weekly, is projected in German on the wall, usually three appetizers, entrees and desserts. English and French versions are available. Decide what you want now, before your blind server leads you in. They will be your lifeline for the next few hours.
The dining hall, a converted church, serves 78 people in tables of eight or six. Doubles and groups of four are seated family style — which means you will hear every word your neighbors utter about their families, marriages or jobs. But don’t worry, you will never see them again.
OK, I will stop. Blind jokes are so not PC.
Should you shut your eyes? Keep them open? Strain to prove that you can see?
There you go again, crippled by your dependence on sight. Move on.
———
TOUCHY FEELY
Knock out the king of the senses and the little guys get a chance. Seated next to four rather drunk Swiss, unable to see each other, my husband and I groped around to get our bearings.
Our findings: we were seated next to a wall, under a window (and yes, if you lift the curtains, it’s still pitch dark). Our Swiss colleagues were in plastic chairs 12 inches away. We had a knife, fork, plate, napkin, along with wine and water glasses. The water bottle was directly behind the glass. The table was about three feet wide.
We are just National Geographic explorers, now aren’t we?
For the erotically minded, the setting offered all sorts of possibilities. But for an old married couple like us, it was nice just to hold hands. How long since we did that at dinner? Then after my first stab with the fork turned up broccoli instead of roasted duck with thyme and honey, we ditched the utensils altogether.
Time for gourmet finger food. So glad I didn’t wear white.
———
I CAN’T HEAR MY FOOD
Some senses you don’t want to wake up. Let’s start with hearing.
Apparently, our four colleagues came with friends and had to shout riotous comments to them across the room. At one point the whole hall burst out with “Happy Birthday to You!” in heavily accented English. And a table full of Portuguese guests could not stop talking with their hands and kept knocking over glasses or bottles that each hit the tile floor with a resounding crash.
Then, our table grew quiet. Did they go? Yes, they did, oh lucky day! Wait, here comes another group. A toxic cloud , a musky male mix of cigarette smoke and unwashed sweater, wafted over us.
The giggles turned to guffaws. It was hard to remember what we were eating.
Our waitress told us later it was the same group, but they insisted on being led outside in the middle of the meal for a cigarette. Not really open to the whole “being in the dark” theme. Or to washing, from what we could tell.
———
LET’S NOT FORGET THE FOOD
It was good. Not as great as I had expected, given the menu. But maybe I was just floundering without my usual visual crutches.
The biggest lesson was that I am a slave to a sight-dominated world. Meeting Elisabeth Sinstadt, our waitress, proved it.
In the lobby, my eyes registered a short, middle-aged woman whose disability gave her a blank expression.
Yet in the dining hall she was a melodic delight, her voice funny and wise, cheerful and reassuring. A woman who had talked diners out of panic attacks and would stop the 90 things she was doing to lead you to the lighted bathroom.
Responsible for 26 guests, she glided through the maze of tables, switching effortlessly from German to English to French, even managing to keep the rowdy Portuguese in line. Seven years on the job and she still glowed with an infectious enthusiasm.
“Part of my job is to be an ambassador, talking to people about the blind. That’s the part I like best,” she said.
A crash of glass to the south interrupted us, followed by a raucous cheer.
“I really hate that,” she blurted out. “So rude to cheer, don’t you think? Someone has to clean that up.”
But the flash of anger fades quickly. She tells us the restaurant closes at 11 p.m., so she and other sight-challenged workers can take public transportation home.
———
BACK TO THE LAND OF LIGHT
Blink, blink — the soft lobby lighting takes on a fluorescent brilliance as our enlarged pupils struggle to readjust.
We pay, then flip through the Blind Cow guest book, filled with pages of vapid, exclaimation-point responses from visitors around the world.
“I will never forget this!”
“What a wonderful experience!”
And, from the oh-so-clever Tony: “I woz ’ere but I didn’t see you!”
Still, one diner got it right.
“That was way trippy,” wrote Chloe from Los Angeles. “I think Keanu Reeves expressed it best when he said ’Whoaaa.”’
———
asap contributor Sheila Norman-Culp is on leave from her job as an AP supervisory editor. | Only registered users can write comments.
Please login or register. |
|
|  | "Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange. In those days, we really believed that to be the world's one, and only truth." | |
|  | We're not that bright, even though in our own little world, we're geniuses. We like 80s hair bands and one-hit wonders, but among us we have respectable tastes, too. Metallica, Iron Maiden, U2. Pursuit of all things trivial is a lifestyle, not just a game. We like some sports, love other sports, and can find something to say about anything. We watch TV and movies and we've read a book or two, even a few classics (Yes, Classic Comics count!)
We call it insight, you call it what you will. | |
|  | Felix Wong is an outdoor enthusiast living in Fort Collins. A mechanical engineer by day, he is especially passionate about bicycling, running, and backpacking. | |
|  | Hola Amigos! I'm Sandra. I like to believe that people are 70 percent good and 30 percent dumb. I'm stickin to that story. Reading this blog might make you want to be good, but probably just dumb. | |
|  | Donovan Henderson is editor of NEXTnc. | |
|  | Here at Nextnc we have some characters. Get a sneak peak behind the curtain and find out what amusing antics our staffers get themselves into on a weekly basis. | |
|  | What is up FoCo?
I am a recent college graduate of Minnesota State University Moorhead. After recieving my B.A. in English and Mass Communications this past August I moved down to Colorado.
I enjoy long walks on the beach, candlelight dinners, and heavy metal. My hobbies include reading and writing, music, movies, and getting drunk. Some of my favorite contemporary authors include Bret Easton Ellis, Chuck Palahniuk, and Kurt Vonnegut. My top movies are anything directed by Kubrick. I enjoy listening to anything that rocks.
Right now I am just trying to get to know Colorado and FoCo better. Mostly in order to find the best drink specials on each day that ends in Y. So if you know where I can get a cheap drunk on, let me know!
--Drew | |
|  | Life's little morsels of inspiration, observation and encouragement seen through the eyes of the Nextnc reporter.
| |
|  | Ms. Giles currently lives in Colorado where she stars in her own private reality show. She writes aphoristic accounts of her life, taken completely out of context, and embellished with characters and situations disguised to resemble something close to interesting. | |
|  | over and out | |
| | My name is Michelle Turley and I'm 28 years old. I live in Severance with my hubbie, Brandon. We have 2 dogs and a cat. We enjoy camping, four-wheeling, and just being in the mountains. I like to cook, clean (go figure), flea market, and play poker. I have so much to say about poker... | |
|
|
